Estrogen
by littlebadhero
Summary: "Estrogen makes us mushy, romantic, pathetic and... and dumb. It makes us especially dumb." Christian and Ana falling in love after being best friends. One shot. Happy ending.


**Hey !**

 **This is a one shot that wanted to be written by me for so long now. And I couldn't resist to write it. Have fun.**

 **Disclaimer: The characters belong to E.L. James and I earn no money with this.**

* * *

 **Estrogen**

"I wish I was a boy."

"Why would you say that?"

"I just mean I wish I was a boy."

"Yeah, I got that. That's why I am asking. Why?"

"I have my reasons."

"Would you please clarify your reasons?"

"Sure that you wanna hear them?"

"Hell yes."

Gray eyes are looking at me curiously. He is sitting casually in my white chair, legs spread so that his dark jeans show his thigh muscles. His blue pullover hangs loosely on his upper body and his arms are dangling by his sides. He has thrown his head a little back so that his neck looks longer. His brows are raised. I can see that he is doubting my mind and maybe he is calling me crazy in his mind – I am also sure that he has done that more than I am proud to admit.

"Estrogen."

"Huh?" Now he is confused.

"That's the poison, my friend. It makes us – and by us I mean women – dumb."

"No, I think it is what makes you a woman. At least that's what Mr. Flynn taught us in Biology."

Smartass.

"You see? You cannot understand me because you haven't the poison in you."

"Even men have estrogen. Mr. Flynn also taught us that one."

"Could you please stop talking about our Biology teacher?"

"Sorry. Go on."

I sigh and let myself fall on my back. My mattress wiggles under my weight and my textbook, which I have ignored since the beginning of our study session, falls down with a 'thud'. Stupid thing. Stupid me. Stupid estrogen. Stupid feelings.

"It makes us mushy, romantic, pathetic and... and dumb. It makes us especially dumb." I groan and hug my pink, fluffy pillow – a thing that reminds me of my estrogen loaded body. I press my face into it and smell the lavenders of my mothers choice of detergent.

"It also gives you boobs. I think estrogen rocks."

"That's because you are a teenager, Christian!" I scold him and hear him snicker.

"That's right I am. And I sure as hell like boobs."

"Could you please stop talking about boobs?"

"Yes, if you show me yours." I throw a pillow at him and of course I miss. Stupid me.

With a sigh I sit down on my bed.

"As I said before, you cannot understand what I am saying. Your body is not infected with Satan's juice." I look into his eyes, waiting for a reaction. He just sighs and rolls his eyes before he stands up from his chair. Then he lets himself fall beside me on my bed. Christian's gray eyes once again meet my boring brown ones. He puts his arm around me and pulls me tightly to his side. I take a deep breath and soak in his scent – a mix of sunshine and honey. When he kisses my temple I flush and get goosebumps. Damn it, estrogen! You cannot react to him like that!

"Ana." he mumbles into my hair, kissing the top of my head. I can't believe that this is happening. He is Christian, my best friend. My best friend since kindergarten. I shouldn't feel like this. He shouldn't make me feel like this. This is such a sweet, romantic gesture. Of course he has hugged me before and he also has kissed me on my temple before but I – or more like my body – have never reacted to his touch like that. My heart never skipped a bit when he looked at me. I never swooned when he smiled. I don't even know when these reactions started. One day I woke up and my body was telling me that it wanted to get closer – like really closer – to Christian. I am sixteen years old and I know what my body was telling me. But it was Christian.

"Are you on your period or something?" He had always mastered the art of destroying the moment.

* * *

"Why are you talking to Jack Hyde?"

I close my locker after throwing in my books. Christian is leaning against the wall beside my locker, his arms crossed on his chest, his brows furrowed. His lips are pressed into a tight line.

"What do you mean?" I say as I put my backpack on my back. The straps of it are loose so that the whole thing is dangling on my hips – I try to be cool from time to time.

"I mean that he was talking about how you guys flirted last weekend on Leila's party. He was also telling the whole gym class about it." Whenever Christian gets angry he also flushes a little bit on his nose and on his ears – it looks kinda cute. He comes a step closer to me – his sunshine-honey-mix scent making me giddy – and puts his hands on my shoulders.

"Don't flirt with Jack. He isn't worth that." Now I am the one getting angry.

"I wasn't flirting. We were just talking. And I can decide by myself if he is worth it or not, okay?" Christian just groans, obviously annoyed by me.

"Ana, you don't know Jack. I do. That's why you should listen to me when it comes to him." His hands are still on my shoulders and I have rather spectacular view of his arms – his muscles – in front of me. If we weren't fighting right now I would totally touch him – just casually like I always do. But I can't. We are fighting.

"Last week, you told me that _he was your 'bro' and you guys had so much fun together_." I mimic his voice just to piss him on. And I succeed.

"Ana!" he scolds me, letting his hands fall from my shoulders – oh no, please come back, muscles – before pushing me back into my locker. He puts his hands beside my head and now I am on first name basis with his muscles – I call them 'manly' and 'hottie'. I feel the cold of my locker against my back through my clothes and his warm breath on my face. Holy cow. He is really close.

"Jack is my friend and he is a good friend. But he couldn't be a good boyfriend to you. He would hurt you and then I would have to hurt him. And I don't want to hurt him, okay?"

Oh. That's what this about. Fine, buddy.

"Don't worry. I am not going to get your BFF hurt. If he is all that you care about." Are there tears in my eyes? Are my emotions trying to come out of my eyes? Please no. I don't want to cry right now. "Go and find your best bud and... and... go."

"Dammit, Ana!" His voice is louder now and everyone is looking at us. "You are my best friend! I only care about you!"

"That doesn't mean that you can decide whom I am flirting with!" I can also scream, Mister!

"I don't want you to get hurt. And I am not allowing you to speak with Jack!"

"What?" I shriek and start to punch his chest – he doesn't even flinch. Bastard.

"How dare you to forbid me to do what I want? Who the hell are you?" Aaaand now I am crying.

"I am... your best friend! Could you please stop punching me?" Christian growls and suddenly takes my hands in his and presses them against my locker by my side. I still have my feet and I start to kick his legs.

"Oh yes, kick me, Ana. That's very mature." I kick harder. I cry harder. I fall in love with him harder.

* * *

"Christian called."

I don't react to my mum and go on with eating my pasta. The only thing that my mum can cook.

"He told me that you should call him back." I can hear that she is curious, wondering what teenagers can fight about. Well, I am not telling her. She would totally tell it Grace and then Grace would totally scold Christian. Maybe I should tell her. No, I am not going to be a bitch. I want to, but my feelings and hormones for him make it impossible to do so. Dammit, estrogen!

"He also told me that he was sorry about what he did. Whatever it is." Her blue eyes are burning holes into me as I try to escape her glance. If I look into her Medusa eyes she will have me talking within a few seconds. I can't look. But the temptation is too big. I sigh and dare a look. My mother – a beautiful women with icy blue eyes and a crinkle-less face with dark blonde hair – is actually smiling. And it's not any smile. It's her 'I know what's up' – smile. Dammit. Here goes nothing.

"Mum. Why are you smiling?" I put my fork on my plate and take a piece of my hair into my hands – a nervous gesture.

"Am I smiling? I didn't notice." Now she is grinning.

"Mum, you are grinning now."

"Really?"

"Mum!"

She giggles and shakes her head.

"I was also a teenager once, you know." Oh no. Where is she going with this conversation?

"Oh really? How was it to be a teenager in the Roman Empire?"

"I'm not that old!"

"Did you actually meet Caesar personally?" Sometimes I really like to have my fun with her. It's also distracting her from our actual conversation.

"Yes, I did. Do you want to know what he told me? He told me that it has to suck to not being able drink alcohol until you are 21. I am sure you are familiar with that problem." 10 points for Carla Steele.

"At least I am still young."

"And I am not old."

"Good."

"Fine."

We start laughing and she takes a sip of her wine – winking at me during the process – before she gets serious again.

"Seriously, honey, what happened with Christian?"

I sigh and give up.

"We had a fight. In school. In front of the whole school."

"Yeah. I heard about that."

"What? From where?" I swear to god if that little bastard talked to his mother about this, I am going to kick his ass. "Who told you?"

"Well, Gina Travis' mother told me. I met her at the supermarket and she told me that there was kind of a scene in the hall between you and Christian, whom she described as the Golden Boy of our town." Gina Travis – our schools tattletale – and her mother – the biggest tattletale ever – should plan their funerals because I am so gonna kill them. Or at least break some bones.

"I can't believe it. What is wrong with these people? Can't they mind their own business?"

"In the greatest depth of her heart, somewhere between the nosiness and sneakiness, I am sure that her intentions were pure." Even mom herself cannot believe what she is saying.

"Did she actually wait five minutes before she told you or did she just blurt it out?"

"I don't know how she managed it but one second we were talking about cheese and the next second we were talking about you." Damn. That's impressive.

"She sure is teaching her ways to her daughter because Gina can link any conversation to gossip. Last week she caught me in the hall and she started talking about our schools new doors and in the end we were talking about Anthony Michelson and his affair with our school secretary."

"Anthony Michelson and Mrs. Cope? I thought she and Mr. Taylor were a thing." Her blue eyes are widen with surprise and curiosity. I felt the same. Poor Mr. Taylor. He is the bus driver of our school, a very sweet man in his late forties.

"Apparently Mrs. Cope likes her men – and I am quoting – _'fresh and hot like bread out of the oven.'"_

"Oh Jesus. That's harsh."

"I know."

"Be extra nice to that man next time you see him, okay?"

"Yes, mom."

"And be extra mean to Mrs. Cope next time you see her, okay?"

"Okay, mom."

"And talk to Christian."

"Hmmm. Sure."

* * *

"Oh Jack. You are so funny."

I know, deep down in my heart, where sweet, innocent Ana is sleeping, that I am behaving like a desperate bitch. But seeing Christian's jaw clench, his eyes getting cold and hard, makes flirting with Jack worth it. We are sitting in the last row of our school bus, which has just stopped to take in new students, including Christian, who purposefully decides to sit just one row in front of us so that he can overhear our conversation. Or that's what I am thinking – maybe even hoping – his reasons are. Jealousy is good. Jealousy will probably drive him crazy. Jack, who doesn't sense the whole situation between me and Christian, thinks that I am just interested in him and is clearly enjoying himself. I mean, he should because I am practically on his lap, my arms are around his neck, and I am sure that he totally can feel my breasts at his side.

With a 'thud' Christian lets his backpack fall on the seat beside him before sitting down gracefully. Then he turns around to Jack.

"Hey, man. What's up?" What the hell? Why is he being friendly? Shouldn't he be angry, jealous and threatening? What does he mean with 'what's up'? I try not to let him see how his behavior affects me. So I put on a smile. The 'I am so angry that my smile is deadly' – smile. Genetically preprogrammed within every Steele.

"Oh. Dude, sorry I didn't make it to your place last night. Ana and I were out." Yeah, Jack totally hung Christian and the other guys out to dry because of me. He rather watched a cheesy romantic comedy with me instead of playing video games with the boys. Man, he sure wants into my panties.

"Oh really? You guys were out, huh? What did Ray say to that, Ana?" Holy cucumber. Christian is playing dirty. He knows that Ray, my father, doesn't know about me and Jack. Of course he knows that because he is the only guy I am 'allowed' to see on a daily basis until I am forty – my dad is still not accepting the fact that I am a soon-to-be adult. But is Christian threatening me with telling my dad? Seriously? So much for being best friends.

"You have to know, Jack, that Ray Steele is not the man you want to fuck with." Christian talks with the smuggest grin on his face – I want to kiss him... I meant kill him! - "Hey, Ana, remember the time in 5th grade, where you had a group project in an all boys group and your father went along with you every time you guys met? Poor David Jensen, who had a crush on Ana, nearly had a heart attack when Ray caught him giving her a letter." And now he is laughing like a maniac. "Everybody knows that Ray owns a gun and a license to kill. He is the chief of police after all."

And now poor Jack is having a heart attack.

* * *

"You had no right to embarrass me!"

"What is embarrassing about talking about your dad?"

"Seriously, I know why you told Jack that story!"

"Sure you do."

"Hmm. I know what you are trying to do, buddy. You are trying to save your friend by scaring the shit out of him."

"Ana, you gotta admit that your dad can be scary when it comes to you. I am just warning Jack."

"Why on earth are you doing that? I thought you didn't want me to see him? If you didn't tell Jack about my dangerous father he would have been unprepared to meet him." I think testosterone is the confusing hormone. Otherwise it would be easier to understand men. Or maybe estrogen is the one which is confusing so that testosterone looks confusing. Now, I am confused.

Christian just giggles "Ana, if somebody is going to beat up Jack for hurting you, it gotta be me." CONFUSING. "If I didn't tell him about your dad, he would have got caught and your dad would make him regret dating you before I could do that. And as I said before, I want to be the one."

With an annoyed groan I hang up on him and throw my phone onto my bed. Why is he doing this? He could have easily ended my relationship with Jack (if you can call it an actual relationship) if he hadn't told Jack about my super controlling, old fashioned dad. If Jack had been careless about our relationship and had opened his mouth about us in public then my dad would have gotten wind of it and than I would be wearing a chastity belt. But no, Christian had to warn Jack about it because he wanted to be the one beating him up? Does that even make sense? Why search blindly for a needle in a haystack if you can use a magnet?

With an annoyed, frustrated and depressive groan and a face as long as a fiddle I get up of my bed and walk towards my desk. There lay my untouched and neglected homeworks and my laptop which I use only to check up on social networks and read mushy, cheesy fanfictions. I sit down on my chair, turn on my laptop and check up my social networks before I start with my homework.

Forty minutes later, I am desperately trying to concentrate and praying that a meteor strikes me right now so that I don't have to do my math homework. My rescue comes with the sound of a phone, a much needed distraction. I jump up and get my phone and groan when I see who is calling. Christian Grey. With a shrug I answer him.

"What do you want?"

He ignores my angry voice and is his usual dorky, funny self.

"Remember when we were kids and you thought that Netherlands were the same as Neverland from Peter Pan? Man, you were really silly." That bastard is actually laughing at me. Grrr.

"Ha ha ha. How funny. You know that I am still angry at you, right? This doesn't make it any better." Stupid, stupid, stupid Christian Grey. Stupid me.

"God, you were so silly and naive. But I loved it." Hearing that he loved something about me makes me mushy again. But I have to pretend to be proud as much as Mr. Darcy.

"Anything else?" I try to sound disinterested. "Or are there other memories of me being silly and naive?"

"Oh yes. You also thought that the smurfs did actually exist." Christian giggles "Remember when we actually went to search them in the woods behind your house and got lost? That was also one of your silliest ideas."

"Well, you were silly enough to follow me." I can't stop smiling when I think about our crazy adventure and how Christian kissed my wound better after I felt down and scraped my knee. And he also gave me a piggy-back on our way back – in which we got lost so that our fathers and the police were searching us.

"Oh man, Ray and Carrick were so angry. I was grounded for 4 weeks. That was cruel. But it was worth it because you told me that you actually had seen the smurfs and you were happy." Oh. My. God. - I should probably stop watching Friends because the voice of Janice is stuck in my head whenever I say/think 'Oh my god'.

"What's your point, Christian?"

This time he sounds more serious and I sense that this phone call was never planned to be funny. He is a man on a mission.

"My point is that I remember every single memory with, even the silliest ones, and every silly action was worth it because it was for you. With you."

Somebody please call 911 for me.

"I was always there. I was always with you. Whenever you needed me, I was there. I was there when you were sad about your parents. I was there when you were sad when your dog 'Woof' died. I was there when you named your dog 'Woof' and I am still saying that he looked more like a 'Hero'. And you were there for me, too. Whenever I needed you, you were there."

Now I am crying and sobbing.

"Christian. I..."

"No, please let me finish. I want you to understand something. I was there for you and I always will be. So whatever you decide, even if you want to be with Jack, I will be there. And I also will kick his ass if he hurts you but for your sake I hope that he never hurts you. Because the thought of you being hurt? That does kill me. And I don't want to fight anymore. I want to be your friend. Your best friend."

"I don't want to be with Jack anymore."

"Why? Did he hurt you? I swear, if he did..."

"No, he didn't do anything! I just don't want to."

"If it is because of me..."

"No! Now you listen. I don't want to fight either. I don't want to be with Jack. He wasn't bad to me though. He was nice. Really nice. And I think that he really likes me. But I don't want him. Not as a boyfriend anyway. But I... you can't... . You can't be my best friend again, Christian."

"What?" He shrieks "Ana, I am really sorry for how I behaved and I am begging you to forgive me. I sure don't deserve it, I know. But I... can't without you, Ana. You are my best friend. You are... my everything."

Oh dear god. Please help me to be brave.

"Christian, you cannot be my best friend anymore because... because I don't see you as my best friend. You are... more for me."

Silence. That's the answer I get. And then I hear how he hangs up. And I die.

* * *

The next thing I do is to cry. I cry really heavy and ugly. It isn't a sweet, cute crying. It is ugly, disgusting and really unattractive. And loud. So loud that my mum comes to check up on me and leaves immediately when I yell at her to leave me alone. I am bitch right now because life itself is a bitch.

I fall asleep much later when my eyes are thick and red and my pillow is soaked in tears and... other gross stuff. My head hurts but it is nothing compared to my heart. My heart is ripped out, broken in thousand of pieces and put on fire. Why did I tell him that? Why did I confess my love? Now I have lost him forever. Having him as a best friend is still better than this. Not having him sucks.

With the sound of stones hitting my window I wake up. I jump up, scared shitless and with a fast beating heart and take my phone into my hand, ready to escape my room. Once again there comes a sound from my window and I hold in my breath. Curiosity makes me take a step towards my window and that's when I hear it.

"Ana." Christian's voice is faint and comes from outside. At first I think it is my desperate teenage mind, which is playing games with me, but when I hear him again, this time a little more louder, I run towards my window. There he is. Christian Grey in his sweatpants and leather jacket, waiting for me outside of my window in the middle of the night. That's like my biggest dream came true. My hormones are running wild in my body and for the very first time I am thankful that I have them. Even if they can be exhausting from time to time, they still make me feel good and happy. With a quick prayer that my window isn't going to squeak I open it and look down at him. The room of my parents is right beside of mine and if they catch him here at 2 a.m., we are so dead. Thanks to the lights in our backyard I can see him fully. And man, he does look good.

"Hi." he says with the stupidest, dorky grin ever. Even in the cold wind that is beating against my face I still manage to flush.

"Listen, Ana." he starts whispering loud enough for me to hear before I can answer him and puts his hands in his pockets and begins to rock back and forth – a nervous gesture he got from his father - "I don't have much time because my parents don't know that I am here and I am sure that your parents won't be pleased when they find me here. So I gotta be quick. You said that you don't want me as your best friend and that you see me as more than that. I have to be honest, at first that freaked me out." Oh no. "But I thought about it. I thought about you. And how I felt about you. And I recognized that you were right. We are not best friends anymore. We are more than that. I mean otherwise I would not want to kiss you, am I right?" Oh. My. God. "I mean, you don't have to kiss me. We don't have to kiss. It would be nice, though. Whatever. I am mumbling. God, I am so nervous. But Ana? Would you like to kiss me as your boyfriend?" He looks up into my eyes and before I know it I shriek much louder than it is safe. "Yes!"

"Shhhh!" he points with his finger towards the window of my parents and grins. But thankfully, they don't wake up.

"Yes, I want to kiss you. As your girlfriend. We should kiss. We should kiss right now. I am coming downstairs." Before I can run out of my room he stops me.

"Even if I am dying to kiss you right now, we would wake up your parents. And I have to go. But I promise to kiss you tomorrow. All of tomorrow. Okay?"

"Okay. Okay. Okay." I am breathless. I am happy. "Then kiss you tomorrow. I mean see you tomorrow."


End file.
